


Not in Love

by spyoflove



Category: 10 days with my devil, Otome, voltage - Fandom
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 14:39:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17003559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spyoflove/pseuds/spyoflove
Summary: Satoru's main route from his point of view





	Not in Love

“I’m not in love/

It’s just a phase that I’m going through/

I’m always looking for something new/

But don’t go running away…”

\- Enrique Iglesias, “Not in Love”

Satoru Kamagari was never wrong. His skill for prognostication was second to none in the underworld, a finely honed craft that had landed him the coveted vice-captain spot on the team of none other than Kakeru Kamui, the Demon Prince himself. Satoru’s talent, along with years of living on his own, meant that every move he made, every step he took, was calculated and precise, leaving no margin for error. He had no intention of fucking up; he couldn’t afford to. If he were to make just one mistake and fall down a rung on the demon caste ladder, he’d have to claw his own way back up again, because there sure as hell wasn’t anyone who was going to lend him a helping hand. Therefore, he meticulously practiced his gift to make sure his sixth sense was right on the money; and it always was.

But damn if he didn’t hope with every iota of his being that this time it wasn’t.

“In love…with her?”

His back slumped against the one free wall inside the restaurant kitchen, the cacophony of clinking plates and glasses, frantic shouts from the chefs, and rushed footsteps of the wait staff a faraway din in his racing mind. A mild curse escaped his lips as he thrust a shaking hand into his pocket to fruitlessly search for a cigarette, telling himself that the beads of sweat that were forming on his forehead were simply due to the heat from the roaring stoves. It couldn’t be that his nerves were set on edge from the premonition he just received, when his fingertips lightly brushed your own the moment he set down your cake in front of you, the piece de resistance of your date with Kakeru and, by association, the final day of your life. He’d just had a long day is all, dealing with these trifling humans and their ignorance to the real drama that went on behind the veiled curtain between the earthly, demonic, and angelic realms.

How could he be nervous? There was no way he could possibly fall in love with you, he reminded himself, a grimace marring his criminally handsome features. All emotions were useless, and he knew better than anyone that love was the most useless emotion of all.

Still, there it had been, the crystal clear vision of the two of you locked in an embrace, tears streaming down your face while his heart churned with the unfamiliar desire to protect you at all costs, even at the expense of his own life.

Could such a scene truly come to pass? 

“Guess lack of sleep finally caught up with me,” he mumbled, running a large hand through his wild chestnut hair. 

With a grunt, he tore off his chef jacket and tossed it on the ground, unheeding of the dirty looks the cooking staff sent his way as he pushed towards the back exit of the kitchen. Politeness was superfluous in dealing with these pathetic creatures; Shiki would erase any trace of him from their memories, anyway. Not that he cared what they thought of him even if Shiki didn’t.

The cool night air in the back alley behind the restaurant cleared his lungs but not his head as he made his way towards your apartment, where he would meet up with the other demons to oversee your final exit from this world. That was the plan, after all; he had seen it clear as day when he surreptitiously bumped into you at a convenience store earlier that week. You had stopped in to grab a bottle of water on your afternoon break, completely oblivious to the gorgeous man whose shoulder knocked into yours as you checked the time on your phone while hurriedly exiting the store. For his part, the split-second vision in his mind of your burning apartment building was all he needed to know to consider his job done and return to the Demon House to attend to more important matters. Quite frankly, what else did he need to know about a worthless human girl like you?

“That you would fall in love with her would’ve been nice,” his conscience scolded.

He kicked a crumpled coke can that had the misfortune of lying in his path into oncoming traffic. “Oh shut up, self,” he growled, clamping down the one ray of shining hope that still pulsed in his heart that maybe, just maybe, he could find love after all.

“Like anyone would love a piece of crap like me. No one ever has,” his espresso eyes darkened, “and no one ever will.”

———————————————————————

He had to hand it to you. Never before had he seen a puny human best the Demon Prince at his own game. That you had accidentally been spared your life due to Haruhito’s idiocy was one thing, but to get Kakeru to agree to give you another ten days? He would’ve laughed at the look on his captain’s face if he weren’t inwardly quaking at how you were that much closer to making his premonition come true.

Luckily, he was a master at masking his true intentions, and he hid himself behind his usual barbs and innuendoes. A good girl like you would definitely keep him at arm’s length once he put on his perv act, he rationalized. A couple of well-placed leers, a sprinkling of suggestive overtones, and you’d be running into Meguru’s care in two seconds flat.

But in what he would come to find was just the beginning of a string of surprises, you chose him of all demons to watch over you during your final days on earth.

“Who the hell is this girl?”

To refuse your request would look suspicious; that he knew well enough. What would he say, anyway? “Sorry, little missy, but I had a vision that you and I would fall madly, deeply, passionately in love with each other, and, oh yeah, I’m a demonic monster that no one has ever given a rat’s ass about, so let’s just end this here before either one of us gets hurt”?

Not bloody likely.

His deviant front came in handy, affording him the opportunity to give you several once-overs on the way to the Demon House without seeming out of character. A handy façade, since his eyes couldn’t get enough of you. Granted, he usually bedded more sophisticated women – the more useful a female was, the more worldly she tended to be. Yet there was something about your honest beauty that utterly captivated him, from your clear, sparkling eyes, free from guilt and sin, to your tender pink-petal entirely too kissable lips, to your petite frame rounded in all the right places. Had he placed an order with the universe to deliver him a more attractive mate, he couldn’t have been more pleased with the result.

But it wasn’t just your physical body that lured him towards you despite his better judgment. It was your spirit, the unexpected strength that came from your vulnerable little body that his sculpted frame virtually towered over. He’d had enough experience of women to know that most would run screaming from a group of demons, if not collapse into a heap of hysterics. You, however, held your ground and requested, nay, demanded an extension of your life.

“The kind of girl strong enough to keep up with a devil like me.”

He shook his head in defiance at the rogue thought. You were becoming far too intriguing, far too tempting, and he forcibly pulled back the fragile filament of connection his still hopeful heart stretched out towards yours.

It was decided. As soon as he got back to the Demon House he was shoving you off on Meguru. It was safer that way.

For both of you.

—————————————————————

The intense heat and nearness of the humans in the packed train was maddening, and for a moment Satoru regretted his decision to accompany you to work the next morning. Another sleepless night was the reason for this poor choice, and you were the culprit who caused him to commit this rare crime. He had tossed and turned through the early morning hours, his reason and his emotions waging a battle against whether to continue to play along with this dangerous game of watching over you, or to end it immediately. After all, it was Kakeru who promised you ten days, not him. But though weak, the secret longing in his heart refused to give up, talking him into rolling the dice for another turn on the playing field.

“You don’t want to hear another lecture from Kakeru about shirking your duties, right?” his conscience whispered as he pulled out a suit from his closet. “And think about all the useful women you might find at her workplace!”

Yeah, that was the reason he was smashed up next to you on that godforsaken train, your sweet scent wafting into his nostrils and sending a jolt of electricity directly to his crotch. Doing his duty and finding more leads. That was all. It had nothing to do with being attracted to you.

As expected, he was immediately approached by several women asking for his name and phone number the moment he set foot in your office. This type of attention was old hat; he knew he was exceptionally attractive, even by demon standards, and he didn’t have to do much to capture the eye of any nearby woman. He wouldn’t even call it a skill really, since it was so effortless on his part.

What he didn’t expect was for you to call him on it.

No. You would not stake a claim – not on him. A claim meant possession, and he refused to let you possess his heart. He knew well enough what a poor, blackened organ it had become over the decades of neglect it had suffered. And he would ensure you saw every dark corner of it before attempting to hold it near your own.

With preternatural reflexes he grabbed your arm and thrust you into the storage room, baring his fangs as he growled every one of his jagged words.

“Fall in love with me?” he thought with a sneer as he saw the look of pain flicker across your eyes at his vice-like grip on your arm. “I will show you every evil, every depraved part of myself to make sure that you don’t.”

But as his grip on you intensified another premonition flared in his mind, an image of you grabbing his hand and smiling at him with a look of such love that for a moment he couldn’t breathe.

He let go of your arm as the scene burned itself into his memory.

“Women are only tools,” he spat at you, hoping the force of his words would destroy the remnants of the vision that rattled him to the very depths of his cursed soul.

Your gentle voice pierced through his swirling thoughts and charred heart.

“But isn’t that a lonely way to live?”

He stared at you, searching your face for a clue to unlock the mystery of why you weren’t quaking in your boots at his violent outburst. The emotion on your face…he hadn’t seen a look like that from anyone in quite some time, and it certainly had never been directed at him. What was it again?

Could it be…compassion?

No, it couldn’t be. As if a monster like him was worthy of such a petty emotion as that.

————————————————————

The music in the darkened club reverberated through Satoru’s chest, intensifying the pounding in his heart. How many minutes had you been in that VIP room with that rich idiot? Five? Ten? Fifteen? It could be one or a thousand; either of which was still too fucking long for his liking. What the hell had he been thinking sending a defenseless lamb like you into a lion’s den like that?

“Just whose willpower are you testing? Hers?” his conscience taunted, “or yours?”

“Satoru, honey, why do you keep looking at that door?” The buxom blonde sitting next to him tilted his face towards her by his chin, pressing her ample cleavage into his chest. “I’m starting to think that maybe you don’t like me anymore?”

He clamped down his irritation with a false smile. Offending the club owner’s daughter was not exactly good protocol; she had lots of connections that perhaps might be useful at some point down the line. But the problem with useful women was that they were always looking for ways to use him right back. Unlike you. 

The guileless generosity and unabashed trust in others you had shown over the past few days amazed him. No matter how many times he raised his hackles and hissed at you, your responses had always been patient and kind, the concerned, almost pitying look in your eyes making him feel far worse than any verbal reprimand could. Not only that, your constant gratitude and thanks for any little thing he did urged him towards granting you more favors, which is why he indulged in buying you the outfit for that night’s party in spite of his better instincts. 

His uncharacteristic bout of charity surprised even himself, initially. But one look at the smile on your face at being told how pretty you looked in the first dress you tried on made him want to buy you the whole damn store. Of course he had to mess with you and tell you he was only kidding, if only because the elation that lit up your face the handful of times he was nice to you was one of the most breathtaking sights he’d ever seen. He knew too well that if he was kind to you all the time, you’d appreciate it less and less. If there was anything he had learned through his various dalliances was that the best way to hold a woman’s attention was to always leave her wanting more.

Despite how cute you looked in your new outfit, he had an ulterior motive for taking you to that party. He wanted to compare you to the glamorous vixens he usually dated, to reinforce to himself the juxtaposition of your purity against their long ago sullied virtues. Perhaps by seeing it in person it would remind himself how he had no right to swim in your untainted waters after a lifetime of living in the sewers.

The techno song continued to blare through the speakers, its rapid beats only serving to mark the ever increasing seconds that ticked by since you had been concealed in that VIP room. He cursed himself inwardly for pushing you into that guy’s arms. When the hell were you coming out of there?

“Someone help me…Satoru…!”

It wasn’t your voice that he heard…no, it was something more primal than that. He didn’t need a sixth sense to know that you were suddenly in danger. Every one of his nerve endings vibrated with the instinctual awareness that his mate was being threatened, and his body sprung into action.

With a growl he pushed the woman who was clinging to him aside and sped towards the VIP room, sending the door flying open with a crash. One look at the jerk’s hand on your arm, and all Satoru could see was red.

“The hell do you think you’re doing with my woman?” he ground out, yanking the dumbstruck man away from you.

“My woman? When the hell did she become my woman?”

————————————————————

Back at the Demon House he paced in his room thinking over the night’s events. He was losing control of the situation, that much was certain. How had you managed to ingratiate yourself so completely into his soul despite all his defenses, and without even seeming to try?

He knew it was you before you had even knocked on the door, and he regretted opening it instantly. The wholesome sight of you freshly scrubbed and in your pajamas was even more tempting than when you were all made up in that sexy dress and his desire to immerse himself in your pliant, forgiving body overwhelmed him. He had propositioned you many times before, but this time your adamant refusal of his advances, though expected, drove him to the brink.

“You want me to let you go even after you went with that other guy?” he snarled, grabbing your wrist and pushing you against the wall.

He had grabbed you several times by the wrist since his last vision, but each time he had steeled his mind against further premonitions. But this time his emotions were too strong, his hunger too urgent, and he found his mind overtaken once again by another flash of the future. 

This time he wasn’t just watching a scene. This vision was as though he were living it. He felt your soft skin where his cheek lay against your bare breasts, a floating sense of peace washing over him as you tenderly ran your hands through his hair, lulling him to sleep. Your voice faint, but filled with honesty and affection as you murmured the words he’d never thought he’d hear in his lifetime.

“I love you, Satoru.”

In a split-second he was back to himself, the vision gone. He blinked and stared at your wrist he was holding that was reddening under his steely grip.

“…What’s wrong with me?”

He let go of your wrist as though stung. “I get off-balance whenever I’m around you…” he faltered, his mind a cloudy haze. “It’s like I can’t stay calm.”

The concerned look on your face was unbearable, because he knew your worry was for him, and not for yourself. Why did you have to be so bloody selfless?

“…get out.”

Your absence tormented him almost as much as your presence. Aimlessly, he walked around his room in circles before slamming a fist into a wall with a primordial cry of anguish.

“This needs to stop,” he admonished himself through clenched teeth. “It ends now.”

—————————————————————

*brrrrrring*

“Hello?”

“Hey, Akane, it’s Satoru.”

“Satoru?! Hey handsome, to what do I owe this rare phone call?”

“I need some female advice and thought I’d go to the source.”

“Oh, really? Who is she and how soon can I kill her?”

“Calm down. I’m trying to get rid of an overly attached woman. Through conventional means.”

“Oh, well in that case, I’m happy to help! What’s she like?”

“Pure, sweet, honest, and far too trusting.”

“In other words, not your type.”

“You got it.”

“Hmm…well, I’d say with someone like that, promises are everything. So make a promise and break it. You’re an expert at that, so it shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Touché. Problem is she’s extremely forgiving. Any suggestions on what sort of promise to break?”

“Let’s see. Oh, I know! Ask her out on a date, then stand her up by going out with someone else. No woman in her right mind would put up with that!”

“Oooh, I like it. Thanks for the tip.”

“Can I be the girl you stand her up for?”

“Oh, will you look at the time, gotta rush to a meeting with the other demons, thanks again beautiful and catch you later!”

“Wait, Sato—”

*click*

—————————————————————

This had not been part of the plan.

Satoru walked into the Demon House fully anticipating the hatred you were about to hail down upon his worthless self. He braced himself for your anger, for the curses you would lash at him for standing you up, for your inevitable pounding on his chest through anguished tears when he told you the lie that he was out with another woman. That he really spent the last six hours alone in a movie theater trying to keep himself from brooding over the fact he was throwing away his one chance at true love and connection with the only person who could possibly put up with him was something he would never admit. The irony did not escape him however, that the one time he did something decent, he still had to lie about it.

But instead of finding you kicking and screaming, he was greeted by the sight of you lying pale and feverish on the living room couch, a vision that shook him to his core more than any of the premonitions he’d had about the two of you combined. The panicked thought raced through his mind that he had hastened the end of your final ten days, and suddenly, clearly, he felt the black hole of nothingness that would overcome him should he lose you. However, the scolding from the other demons was nothing compared to the curse words he stabbed into his own heart when you opened your bleary eyes only to whisper words of forgiveness before fainting away into unconsciousness.

“I’m…glad you’re okay.”

To the shock of the other demons he lifted you into his arms, declaring to their stunned faces that he would take over nursing you back to health. As if he would let any other man touch the precious woman that he had come to so fiercely love.

Yes, he admitted it. He loved you. And he would not deny it any longer.

Tenderly placing you on your bed, he touched his forehead against your own to test your fever, only to be taken aback by its strength. He wasn’t used to taking care of anyone, and for a terrifying moment he was at a loss for what to do. It wasn’t long though before there was a tentative knock on the door from Meguru, who in his quiet wisdom had brought some basic medical supplies for Satoru to use while tending to your illness.

“What kind of idiot waits for a man for four hours in the rain?” he scolded you in a low voice as he lightly patted your heated forehead with a cool cloth. “Don’t you know that no man is worth that, especially a low-life like me?”

Your only answer was a small whimper as you drifted further into sleep.

With a sigh, he placed the cloth back in the bowl of water before sitting down to lean his elbows on his knees. Hanging his head, he stared at the floor, trying to ground himself amid the chaos of his emotions that tried to make sense of the shattered fragments of his once well-ordered life.

He didn’t know if there was a God. That information was classified even in the Demon Realm. Knowledge was power after all, and the Demon King was a shrewd man. Even if there was one, he’d never answered any of Satoru’s prayers before, so he wasn’t sure if it was worth trying. But he was willing to give it a shot. For you.

“Uh, hey big guy.” His voice came out like a croak. “I, uh, know I’m in no place to ask you for anything, seeing as how I’m more sinner than saint. But you know she,” his voice cracked for a second, but he cleared his throat and continued on, “she’s an angel. I know you want to see her soon, but she has something she wants to do first. She’s not ready to leave, and I sure as hell am not willing to give her up. So what do you say you and I make a deal?”

A flash of lightning flickered by the window followed by a roar of thunder, the storm that had made you fall sick still raging outside. Satoru chuckled.

“Guess that means you’re listening? Or that maybe you don’t think I’ll hold up my end of the bargain? Well, you should know by now I don’t give a shit what anybody thinks about me, not even you,” he scowled, flipping the bird at the window in defiance.

“Here’s the deal,” he offered, his russet eyes returning your face. “You spare her life, and I’ll turn over a new leaf. I’ll become a man worthy of this love she’s so foolishly bestowed. But let me warn you. If she dies, so will the last part of any goodness left in me. Your choice, old man.”

For several hours all that could be heard was the ticking of the clock and your uneven breathing. Then, suddenly…

“Satoru…”

And so his fate was sealed.

——————————————————————

“…you sure about this?”

To an outsider, Shiki’s voice would have sounded flat and emotionless, but Satoru had lived and worked with him long enough to detect the underlying worry. It was a bit of a surprise to find that the reclusive computer geek had come to care for his sorry ass, but then again, there was very little left to surprise him after this rollercoaster week.

Satoru nodded, thrusting his hands in his pockets as he leant against the wall in Shiki’s bedroom. “I know the cost. And I’m willing to pay it.”

Shiki’s violet eyes studied Satoru from behind his glasses. His lips twitched slightly, the unspoken words twisting his mouth into a frown.

Satoru raised an eyebrow. “If you’re worried about getting in trouble, I told you I’d take full responsibility.”

“…that’s not it.” Shiki turned back to his laptop where he began to pull up maps of the airport terminal. “You’ve changed.”

“Have I?” Satoru chuckled. “Since when have you known anything about me?”

“…around the same time since you’ve known how to tell when I want to say something before I say it.”

“Heh,” Satoru smirked. “So much for us being antisocial loners, huh?”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Shiki’s mouth.

“Keep me posted,” Satoru tossed over his shoulder as he exited Shiki’s room. “And, uh, thanks.”

“…yeah…you’ve definitely changed.”

Had he changed? Satoru hoped so. If not, this one last action would at least erase all his sins up to that point. Sacrificing his life to save your parents…it was actually a cheap bargain if he thought about it. He almost felt like he was cheating God as a matter of fact, his previously selfish, empty life not nearly worth the equivalent of those he was about to save. But at least this way, he could never disappoint you in the future. This way, he would always be your hero, your knight in shining armor.

This way, you would always love him, for the rest of your life.

—————————————————————

So miracles did happen.

Satoru would never have believed it if he hadn’t experienced it himself. Through an inexplicable series of events, your parents had been saved, and both his life and yours spared. He wished he could take credit for it, but it was all due your mysterious magic. You had to be magic, he reasoned. There was no other explanation for how his almost hardened heart could have fallen in love with yours any other way.

With a soft murmur you shifted in his arms in your sleep, but his hold on you never lessened. Though dreamland tugged at his own exhausted mind, he refused to fall asleep, afraid that if he did he would wake up to find that that the bliss you were now sharing had been nothing more than a dream.

He knew he was long past the days of blushing over sexual encounters, but the tender lovemaking you had just shared turned him into a kid again. It was as though he were experiencing sex for the very first time, the heightened passion of sharing pleasure with someone he loved making all other encounters pale in comparison. His cheeks grew hot, remembering the softness of your skin, your moans of rapture, and the ecstasy that lay between your rounded thighs. He had never been to heaven; never wanted to, and he resolved he never would venture there now. After tasting the paradise that was your body, he knew the real thing would only fall short in comparison.

Lovingly, he brushed a stray lock of hair from your face to lean down and plant a kiss on your nose, a wry grin spreading across his face.

No, his vision had not been wrong that faraway ten days ago. 

And you had never been so right.

**Author's Note:**

> I got the idea for this fic after playing the 10DWMD substory “Demon House Party”. In it, Satoru plays some pretty nasty tricks on everyone, and the gang decides to play a trick back on him in revenge. But he doesn’t fall for it, because through his sixth sense, he already knows what they are up to.
> 
> This intrigued me, because then I thought, what if he knew from the beginning that he would fall in love with MC? And what would his reaction have been if he did?
> 
> He would have pushed her away with every ounce of his being, that’s what.
> 
> And suddenly it made perfect sense to me all his dickish behavior. Seen through the filter that he was terrified to fall in love, it all became clear. Thus, this fic was born.
> 
> However, as much as I like Satoru, there are several aspects to his character that I find borderline abusive. I am not lying when I say that after playing his first epilogue I wanted to write a letter to Voltage asking them what the hell they were teaching the young women in their fanbase with a character like him. While he does mellow out significantly in his sequel (the introduction of Tsubasa was genius in furthering his character development), the “Demon House Party” substory shows that at his core, he’s still a sadist. So while I really wanted to write “Not in Love” for the creative aspect, I still worried that by presenting Satoru in a more sympathetic light, I would be condoning his questionable behavior.
> 
> Yes, he’s sexy and yes he’s funny, but most importantly Satoru’s prime defining characteristic is being a sadist. Even the MC calls him a lunatic in the scene where he drags her into the storage room. Are we sure he’d still stop if we did say no? Can we say that with 100% certainty?
> 
> In the Voltage world, yes. In the real one, not so much.
> 
> So many times, we think we can save someone with our love. We meet a guy with problems and issues, and though he may treat us badly, we make excuses and feel sorry for him and keep putting up with it. “Oh he had a bad childhood, oh nobody understand him, etc., etc.”
> 
> But I’m here to tell you that unlike in Voltage, people IRL rarely change, no matter how much you love them. And in the end, you can get significantly hurt in the process emotionally, mentally and physically cutting yourself on their ragged edges. Even the smartest and best of us can fall into this trap, and the scars remain.
> 
> I speak to you from experience.
> 
> So let me make this absolutely clear:
> 
> If a guy tells you that he thinks women are only good for what he can get out of them, don’t try to talk him out of it. Instead, put on your tennis shoes and RUN.
> 
> If a guy physically hurts you in any way, or manhandles you to the point that you feel pain, that is abuse. RUN.
> 
> If a guy, or anyone for that matter, forces you into a situation where they know you don’t want to be or will definitely fail, and then get angry at or make fun of you when you do fail, that’s abuse. RUN.
> 
> If a guy wants you to carry a phone just for him, with only his phone number, that’s the beginning of isolating you from others, which is a pattern in abusive relationships. RUN.
> 
> I know this is probably a little more serious talk than you expected from a fanfic. But I felt obligated to post this disclaimer. Abuse is no joke, and I care too much about my followers to let something like this go unsaid.
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
> 
> Originally published on my tumblr blog under the same user name. You are welcome to follow me there as well!


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